


Mind Over Matter

by hereismyhappyplace



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Choking, M/M, Nosebleed, Not as graphic as it sounds, attempt at comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 19:04:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12195825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereismyhappyplace/pseuds/hereismyhappyplace
Summary: "...he can just feel that pair of thumbs pressing harder and harder into the column of his neck and, he’s not sure why, but he knows he deserves it. he can just feel that pair of thumbs pressing harder and harder into the column of his neck and, he’s not sure why, but he knows he deserves it."





	Mind Over Matter

**Author's Note:**

> Just posting stuff from my blog. I accept prompts and write stories based off of them so feel free to send me some! ♡
> 
> [You can find me here](https://here-is-my-happy-place.tumblr.com/)

There is…something holding his throat.

Holding is actually a pretty loose term; in actuality, something—or _someone—_ is grabbing it with an intense grip, enough that it makes him lose the breath of air that he gasps into his lungs. It hasn’t completely stolen his airways yet, but he can just feel that pair of thumbs pressing harder and harder into the column of his neck and, he’s not sure why, but he knows he deserves it.

_Oikawa…_

A familiar voice, but faint past the blood rushing through his ears. Oikawa can _feel_  the way his body picks up with adrenaline pricking through his veins; he knows his body knows that it’s dying—or going to die—and it’s trying to fight back. Oikawa is too, trying to fight back at the invisible force that he can’t quite _see—_ the room is dark, pitch black openness that he can’t even tell who his assailant is—but his wiggling and squirming warrant nothing but a tighter grip and the next time he tries to suck in for air, he’s struggling.

Oikawa blinks several times, tries to get his vision adjusted; tries to see who his killer could be—he might as well know if he were going to die by their hands—but all he can hear are the linger whispers of his name, so light and airy that it almost sounds like he’s imagining it. It kills him because it’s said in that familiar tone, but _he can’t place the name…!_

“Oikawa.”

He gasps.

_Iwa-chan…?_

The picture of the person in front of him becomes so clear that it’s crystal. He _sees_ Iwaizumi—can make out the ridges of his nose, the contours of his cheek, his frown, that furrow in his brow, everything that just screams Iwa-chan, _his Iwa-chan!—_ and he can even feel the familiar callouses on his hands that are on his neck—

And that’s when it registers that _Iwa-chan_ is the one holding his throat.

Choking—Iwa-chan’s _choking him._

Oikawa thrashes immediately, startled cry more of a wheezing breath as he can’t suck in enough air to put voice behind it. It’s terrifying—he’s scared! _Iwa-chan why…?_ But there’s no emotion portrayed on the other boy’s face. He can’t even find that hint of annoyance or that tiny frown he sees when he knows he’s really fucked it up with Iwaizumi; he is, for a lack of a better words, dead, even though Oikawa’s now the one not breathing.

He shuts his eyes because he’s afraid—not afraid of dying, which is something that should have happened years ago; no, he’s afraid because _Iwaizumi_ is going to kill him. His best friend, _his Hajime,_ after all of these years he was finally done carrying the luggage that came with being with Oikawa’s friend—maybe Iwaizumi was done enough that he, like all the others, didn’t think he should exist.

Oikawa stops fighting; he has no reason to keep going, no reason to fight Iwaizumi like this.

His consciousness rolls in and out—his body is _burning._ His chest aches like somethings missing and he isn’t sure if it’s the lack of air or watching his best friend try to kill him.

He doesn’t have another gasp to give; his air has all but run out inside him for too long. His eyes roll back and he knows _this is it, this is it, this is it—_

It’s Iwaizumi’s scream that brings him back to reality.

Without even a cohesive thought, Oikawa releases his _own_ telekinetic grip on his own neck, allowing the air to rush back into his body like a swift punch; he sputters, he chokes, and it almost feels worse to be breathing again than it did to lose all of it in the first place.

Past the violent rush of blood and the intense ringing sound piercing through his psyche, he can hear voices talking to him—his mother talking through one of her dreams in the next bedroom, the neighbor next door wondering if he should get up and change the baby’s diaper or wake his wife, the stray cat on the roof’s thoughts on getting the bird—

His telepathy is working a mile a minute and he can’t find the strength or energy to try to control it. Oikawa groans, bringing trembling hands to his ears to try and block out the incessant noise—it’s too much, oh god, why couldn’t he just have died, _why couldn’t he be dead—_

_Hey,_ a gentle voice—he knows that voice, that’s Iwa-chan’s voice—speaks in his mind, _I’m right here Tooru…I’ve got you. Try to take deep breaths. Just listen to my thoughts, okay? Don’t focus on anything but me…_

Oikawa blinks once and tries to focus more on the soothing talking in his thoughts.

When Iwaizumi tells him to take a breath, he does.

When Iwaizumi tells him to release the breath, he does.

When Iwaizumi explains that he’s going to move his head into his lap, Oikawa lets him. Lets him start dabbing tissues to his nose after Iwaizumi explains that it’s bleeding again.

He can’t help it, but he does make the smallest whimpers when Iwaizumi tilts his chin—his throat hurts to even think about, let alone touch; he already knows he’s going to have some nasty bruising and vaguely he wonders if the marks will be worse than last time.

“Don’t think about.”

Iwaizumi’s voice surprises him; Oikawa hadn’t realized he’d created a link between them so Iwaizumi could hear his thoughts too.

“I know you didn’t mean to make one without asking. It’s fine, it’s not overwhelming like last time.”

Oikawa makes a noise and tries to pick up his head—he needed to break the link, he didn’t want to flood Iwa’s mind too…

“Shh…don’t worry. We’re fine. You can keep your mind calm, I know you can. You’re not going to hurt me…”

_Now if only we could get you to stop hurting yourself…_

The thought slips in Iwa’s brain and Oikawa knows he isn’t meant to hear it; there’s a lot of things he’s never supposed to hear but he does, because of this stupid, worthless power—

“Stop. Stop trying to think like that. This power is a part of you Oikawa…actually no, we aren’t going to focus on this right now. We’re focusing on you and the first thing we need to do is get your medication. Is it still in the medicine cabinet down stairs?”

Oikawa opens his mouth to respond and it’s right about then that his mother comes scurrying into the room in her blue silk robe with hair askew, looking like she’d been woken suddenly from a dead sleep.

“Is he okay?!” Of course her empath powers are going wild now; she always could sense when he was suffering like this.

He tries to open his mouth again, but Iwaizumi answers for him instead in that calm, _everything is going to be okay_ voice of his, “He needs his medicine and a glass of water if you don’t mind, Auntie. I think his nosebleed has stopped for now.”

His mom leaves without another word and Oikawa watches her go almost listlessly.

_You don’t deserve all the trouble I bring you._

He rolls his eyes up because he knows Iwaizumi’s heard it, he sees that pinched look in his brow and that purse in his lips when he thinks he’s being too hard on himself. To his surprise, Iwaizumi doesn’t give him another lecture on how he shouldn’t be thinking this badly to himself. Instead, he leans down and places a chaste kiss to his forehead, gently resting them together.

_Love you Tooru._ Is what his voice says in his head.

_You shouldn’t._ He thinks back immediately because he really can’t help it.

“I do anyways,” Iwaizumi returns, this time out loud, “I really love you, Tooru.”

Iwaizumi picks his head up suddenly as if he’s sensed something, giving Oikawa’s face a once over. He quickly reaches for one of the boxes of tissues near the bed and starts dabbing at his bleeding nose again, trying to soak up all the blood.

Oikawa doesn’t know where the strength comes from, but he finally manages to shut out the link between him and his best friend. Iwaizumi makes a concerned noise when he does, patting his cheeks a few times when Oikawa grows drowsy from the extra energy being expelled.

“C’mon Tooru, just stay awake a bit more. Take one of your capsule locks at least.”

Oikawa looks to him almost apathetically, _why do you even bother?_

Oikawa knows for a fact that the link has been broken between them; he knows because he can’t _feel_ Hajime like he can when they are connect—a strong force by his side or the safety net holding behind back—so he doesn’t expect it when Hajime, _again,_ leans down—this time to kiss his lips—and tell him with all the seriousness and surety he can muster:

“Because _I love you, Tooru.”_ He says it vocally and within his mind that Oikawa’s still unwillingly reading.

Oikawa blinks and he doesn’t understand why, but he almost wants to laugh.

He wonders how many times Hajime will say that before it starts to mean something.

**Author's Note:**

> I was in a mood™ when I wrote this.


End file.
